Neon Afterlife

7

The sun peeked above the horizon as Jason and Alex strolled along a path on Miami Beach. The breaking waves called to them as they paused under a canopy of palm trees and looked out at the water. His fingers brushed hers as they stood side by side.

"My mother loved the beach," Alex said. "And the ocean."

"Do you?" Asked Jason.

"I remember holding her hand as we walked on the sand. The warm sun above. It was paradise." She sensed the faint brush of his hand against hers. A gentle intimacy.

"I like the shades of pink and orange as the light reflects off of clouds," he said. "The smell of salt in the air. The keening of the gulls."

"Keening? Seriously?" she said as he turned to face her, fully taking her hand in his and captivating her with his gaze.

"Before, the sun left my flesh wanting," Jason searched her eyes.

"Tomorrow, I'll feel its obsession.

Before, the wind howled its defiance.

Today, it fills my wings and I soar.

Before, the moon hid from my glancing.

Tonight, I reveled in its passing.

Before, words had no meaning.

To me now, whisper secret tidings.

Before, love looked upon me forsaken.

Together, I am restored."

Alex stared at him in silence for a moment as the morning breeze swirled around them. "What was that?" she asked.

"Poetry."

"But... why?"

"It's what I do."

Alex waited patiently for him to go on. After a moment he sighed in resignation and explained, "Remember when I said Ballet isn't what I do?"

She nodded.

"I write poetry... in the bus station." Embarrassment once again caused his cheeks to flush.

Alex giggled, "You wrote a love poem in the bus station?"

He shrugged. "Some of it. I finished it just now."

"Just now?"

He nodded and it was her turn to blush, "I like it," she said. "What do you call it?"

"Alex."

She punched him in the arm. "Don't be a jerk."

"What did I do?" he asked in astonishment.

"Don't play me."

"I'm not."

She stomped off a few paces and spun to face him. Her anger rising as the feeling of connection was severed so abruptly by Jason's forwardness. It felt... phony. "You kidnap me from your parent's house in your sensitive-man-car, take me dancing all night, and then bring me to watch the sunrise on the beach. You recite a poem you just finished, about me. I'm not an idiot. That stuff only happens in movies or when someone's getting played and this isn't Hollywood."

"I'm not playing you," he protested. He was beginning to look like a puppy that was being scolded and that made Alex even madder.

"You're this gorgeous, ballet-dancer-poet who knows the bartender at the sexy underground club where you take this girl you just rescued from a slimeball at the bus station." She stunned herself with this revelation as she paced back and forth. "This can't be real. You can't be real. Are you secretly a prince too? Or maybe just a wealthy CEO of a big corporation?"

"Did you say gorgeous?" he smirked.

His charm was so disarming, but she couldn't let him in. She had too much to lose, too much to do. She couldn't let a boy get in the way of her promise to her mother. She mashed her palms into her eyes then looked at him to confirm he wasn't a mirage. He was still there. "Either you're a bad cliché or too good to be true. Neither one is what I need right now." She backed off further, "I've gotta go."

He stepped towards her and she retreated more. "Don't," she said as turmoil swirled in her mind.

"Clichés aren't all bad," he pleaded.

She shook her head, confused. "This can't be happening. It's like some Nicholas Sparks parallel universe." She looked at Jason as he stood helplessly watching her. She wanted him to grab her and hold her, but that's not what was happening. He was just... staring.

She turned and jogged off half wanting him to catch her. She needed time to think, alone.

"Wait," he called after her. Too late. He watched her retreating figure, wondering if he should have gone after her, until she was gone; obscured by the city and the distance between them.

He wandered back to his car and climbed in; dazed. At the foot of the passenger seat he noticed Alex's backpack. He smiled and turned the ignition.

***